Sunborn Rising

by Aaron Safronoff

  Vallor looked for Brace, but she was gone. She felt relief, and smiled into the hideous, oozing face of Argus. He smiled back, and then he pulled her apart.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “Barra, wait!” Tory grabbed Char and threw him to the meniscus where he spread wide across the threshold. Tory jumped through, Char enveloped him, and they swam off after Barra.

  Plicks and Blue followed quickly after.

  Even with their Nebules shielding their eyes from the light, the bups were momentarily blinded. Out of the light emerged clouds of mingling colors. Huge families of Nebules congregated and swirled. There were thousands of them and when they saw the bups emerge from the Roedtaw, they slowed to stillness. They swayed as the current generated from the Boil swept huge volumes of bubbles around them. The Roedtaw blocked the rising bubbles for the bups, spreading open the curtain so that they barely had to swim to stay close.

  Barra realized that the Roedtaw had gathered the Nebules from the entire ocean. She fought hard to understand how they could all know what to do, and then she saw them flashing subtly to one another. Red spoke to them, sharing a greeting. There was response from the entire cloud, a pulse of light that waved through them like a cheer through a crowded audience.

  One dark shape moved from deep within the colonies, and Barra recognized the striding strokes of Lootrinea. The Aetherial swam out in front of the Nebules and greeted the bups though she only came as close as the mouth of the Roedtaw. Her slender sucker-cupped arms were spread widely around her, displayed like wings, and her body rippled all the way to the tip of her tail. She folded her wings, flipped over majestically, and swam back into the cloud of variegated Nebules.

  The burden fell to Barra and her dream. Only she could show them all what to do. She wasn’t sure what would happen to her, to Red, or any of the Nebules willing to join her, but she was confident the Great Forest would thrive again and become the world of her father’s journal. She knew he would be proud of her. She only wished he was there to see it.

  Looking up one last time at the apparently endless darkness above, she wondered how it would all change if her plan worked. Barra took a deep breath and swam into the open water.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Brace writhed in agony. She might have blacked out for an instant or an eternity; she couldn’t know. She saw eyes. Familiar orange and gray rims filled her vision. But the nerves of her tail ignited, confused and crying fire as she moved to see. Brace called out desperately, “Gammel!? Gammel!”

  But it was Jaeden that hovered over her. She slapped Brace hard. “Get up!”

  Violent efforts reported all around; breaking limbs, wood and bone, and flesh tearing. There were threats offered, and echoes of threats fulfilled. Brace reached up, and Jaeden hauled her to her feet.

  Brace was dragged into the thicket. But soon her body remembered how to move, and they were running before she was truly conscious of it. As her senses returned, she stopped and whispered, “We can’t leave them!”

  “There’s nothing you can do,” Jaeden said.

  Brace mistook the young warrior’s calm for emotionless dismissal and yelled, “We’re going back!” But Jaeden grabbed her by her mangled, shortened tail and sent a shock through her system that shut her down. A cold spike shot up her spine.

  “You’re done.” Jaeden looked around suspiciously. “I promise I’ll go back once we’ve got you someplace safe.”

  Unsure it was the right decision, but unable to ignore her injury, Brace gave up. Her head hung low and her shoulders fell.

  Brace’s taciturn agreement came too slow for Jaeden. She yanked the wounded Listlespur—by the arm this time—to start her running. Jaeden snarled, “They’re coming!”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Barra wished she could tell Plicks and Tory that their support, being there with her, gave her the courage to do what had to be done. She didn’t think she could thank them without breaking. She knew they were following, but she didn’t turn around. She stared down into the Boil alone.

  There was no other way. She gave Red the go ahead, and they swam as fast as they could into the cloud of Nebules. The gelatinous creatures gathered behind them in a lengthening tail of light and color.

  Barra let the exhilaration of the moment wash over her. They swam faster and faster until the trio became three comets burning the ocean. Charging toward the Boil, a massive number of Nebules followed them. Flashes of communication rippled through the comets of Nebules. They drove toward the Boil. Barra felt one version of her dream becoming a reality. She hoped the jellies understood, truly knew what they were about to do. The other versions of the dream faded, no longer possible now that she’d chosen a path.

  They hit the Boil at blazing speed, and splashed through to the other side. For a moment, Barra thought they’d somehow stopped, as her sense of speed vanished completely. Red stretched to envelop even more of the young Listlespur until she was completely contained, safe from the heat and light.

  The Sun, unbelievably large and unbelievably far away, distorted her perspective. It was quiet in the Void too. For the first time, Barra actually heard the light that pulsed through Red like a heartbeat. Or maybe it was her own heart that she heard. Their rhythm matched so that she couldn’t tell which was the source and which was the echo. But the sun was too bright even for Red to block out and Barra had to close her eyes against it. Burned on her retinas was an image that promised never to leave her, no matter what darkness came.

  The two friends fell out of synch. Red faltered. Barra felt heat on her arm. It was pleasant at first, but focused on the wound, the warmth soon turned to searing pain. Splitting her eyes open just a crack, Barra looked at her forearm through Red and saw her arm glowing white hot with blue vapors flying from it.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “I think we’re safe,” Jaeden whispered to Brace. They hadn’t gone far, but they’d found a den sealed up tightly by the Buckle. Managing to wriggle their way in, Jaeden busied herself trying to stymie Brace’s oozing tail.

  “You saved me. Thank you,” Brace said, her voice weakened and breathy.

  Jaeden watched her eyes roll back slightly and grabbed her up. She shook Brace. “Hey, hey. Stay with me.” Brace was sitting on the floor of the den, and Jaeden scooted her around until she had her back propped against the overgrown wall. She didn’t want her to pass out. Patting her shoulder, she said, “It wasn’t me, it was Vallor.”

  “Vallor? Vallor! You, you have to go back for her,” Brace said, but the words lacked her usual force.

  “I will. As soon as you stop bleeding,” Jaeden said through her teeth as she bit through some bitter bark and chewed on it.

  Brace inhaled sharply and tried to focus. She grabbed some of the bark that Jaeden had torn from the walls and started chewing. “I don’t need you to chew my bark for me,” she said from the side of her mouth.

  Removing a well-masticated chunk from her mouth, Jaeden flattened the mash into the pad of her paw and then spread it on Brace’s tail. Brace winced, but didn’t cry out. She added her own medicinal cud to Jaeden’s and filled her mouth again.

  Brace was faster with the bark than Jaeden, and continued adding to her tail until it was covered completely in a thick, rough paste. “Now go.”

  Jaeden thought it better to pretend to leave than stay and argue, but as she turned she saw fingers of Creepervine crawling in through the narrow gap of the entrance. Kudmoths flowed in, staying close to the vine.

  One way in, one way out. Jaeden cursed herself. She’d buried them.

  Brace still hadn’t seen the danger when she heard Jaeden hiss. Spooked, she looked up, and the hope she’d clung to for so long flew from her. She held to one thought to give her courage to face the end: Barra—my daughter, my love—is safe, and far, far away.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Red spun Barra around so that she
was looking away from the sun. The comet of Nebules surrounded them. They created a shield against the heat, and a pocket for Barra. Swimming toward Barra from the Boil was Fizzit. Coiled around Barra’s scorched and withered arm, Red pulled the heat from the cauterized wound. She siphoned the blue vapors into her jelly body, absorbing the blackened, fungus-infested flesh. Barra watched the black and blue bleed into every molecule of Red’s body, except where she still held Barra’s arm. There, against the exposed skin, Red was the same deep red she had been when they first met.

  Red let her go.

  The diseased part of Red’s body split from the healthy. Her darkened body flew toward the sun, at the head of the comet of Nebules. Fizzit caught the flailing Barra with his tails. He flipped and dragged her back toward the Boil. Barra struggled vigorously, angrily to turn around, to look at Red, to find her and call her back. Fizzit was unwavering. He flew against the flow of Nebules.

  Fizzit looked back over his shoulder, “There’s nothing you can do for her. This is what she wants.”

  Barra inhaled like she was coming up for air.

  Fizzit curved around and fixed on Barra with all three of his richly glowing amber irises. “You should say goodbye.”

  Positioning Barra gently with his three tails, Fizzit held her so that she could see the sun. The Nebules closest to the sun crossed a threshold of distance or gravity, and streaked away, bright thin lines burned in their wake. The first Nebules hit the sun and their impacts created fiery rings and flares. The corona of the Sun came to life.

  Barra thought about Red, not knowing how to say farewell. She looked down at her arm where the sanguine jelly coated it like a second skin. She flexed, and though there was still some soreness, her arm felt strong again.

  She tried to find Red in the display of light. One after another, impact after impact, the explosions built. Watching the tiny impacts, she saw them stacking, creating bigger and more powerful waves. Nebules crashed into the sun by the thousands. Barra couldn’t see her, but she imagined Red leading them in fearlessly. Tears welled up in her eyes. She hoped it was worth it, that they made a difference.

  Fizzit said, “We can’t stay.” He pointed to the building intensity of light.

  Barra nodded. Fizzit twirled her around, and they twisted their way back into the illuminated ocean.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Crouching and backing up, Jaeden imposed herself between the Kudmoths and Brace.

  Brace refused to be a burden. She crawled forward on frayed nerves, wounded limbs, and courage. She joined in Jaeden’s fearsome hissing. Out of habit, her muscles fired to raise and flick her tail, but the half that remained burned in protest, and her hiss broke into staccato inhale.

  Jaeden risked a glance to her side. “I’m sorry for this.”

  Brace managed to smirk through her agony. “I’m not. I saw my daughter again. I know she’s safe now.”

  Jaeden had hoped for something more encouraging, but knew that neither of them was likely to make it. Neither was rushing to die either, so they continued to threaten instead of charging into the fight.

  Then, just as quickly as the Kudmoths had entered, the dark harbingers left. Jaeden crept carefully forward to investigate and noticed the Creepervine swelling. One arm of the vine burst and shocked Jaeden into jumping back to Brace. More arms exploded, and sprays of noxious green painted the walls.

  The pair was stunned. A dim white light radiated from every break in the weeping vine. The glowing splashes faded, and the den was softly illuminated exclusively by the white light. It wasn’t a bright light by any measure, but it wasn’t dark.

  Avoiding the splashes even though the poisonous radiance was gone, Brace and Jaeden approached the sliver of an entrance to the den. Jaeden went out first and then quickly poked her head back in. “You have to see this.”

  34. The Rain

  The Roedtaw held his plates open wide as he could as he carried the bups home. The underside of the Root was sparkling to life. Flashes burned across the sky, increasing the light with each burst. New bright colors and textures bloomed, and flowers overflowed with water.

  Glowing waves overtook the Roedtaw from beneath. They rippled over the Olwone and continued to the Root. They diffused there, each impact bigger than the last. The enormous flotilla of interwoven Great Trees began to glow. The bups couldn’t see from behind the plate, so they watched and wondered what the waves of light were doing to the Loft, and to their families.

  They missed Red, Char, and Blue.

  Plicks asked, “Do you think they’ll come back?”

  Barra looked at her arm. She ran her fingers over it. The sanguine jelly was fused to her and felt smoother than her own skin. “I don’t know.”

  Tory asked, “Are you an Aetherial, now?” Curiosity didn’t disguise the sadness in his voice. He felt sure he wouldn’t see Char again.

  Taking her time to think about it, Barra realized she had no idea. Plicks waited for her answer with mixed emotions. He was excited for her, that she might be an Aetherial, but not sure what it meant really. Barra thought that she should know whether or not she’d become an Aetherial. Not knowing probably meant she wasn’t. “I’m not sure. I don’t think so,” she said somberly.

  Tory seemed not to accept the answer. Plicks asked uncertainly, “Do you think our families are okay?”

  “I hope so,” Barra said, but her intuition was dead silent. A tear dropped down her cheek and traced her smile. It tasted like the ocean.

  She wanted to return to her father’s journal. Now she knew how it ended, and she could write the rest for him.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  The fungus burned away from the Root, and the Creepervine receded into the few remaining places of shadow. Like wildfire, the sun’s light was carried up the Great Trees. When the light reached the Loft it opened and spread out over the canopies. The radiance swelled until it extended out of the Reach and created a new sky, bright violet and alive.

  The expedition was stunned, at first, unable to believe what was happening. The fungal-puppets fell mid-fight, crumpling to the Root as small mounds of rot. Their master’s vines shriveled, weakened, and broke.

  Luke Mafic said, “They did it.” He looked around, found Kable, Plicks’ father, and screamed, “They did it!”

  Each Arboreal turned to the next, realizing what had happened. They erupted in bouts of joy and tears. They rejoiced for all the moments they had, and those they had yet to share together. They cheered, and they didn’t stop cheering until they were too exhausted to continue.

  The channels that carried the ocean to the boughs were cleansed of dark materials. The water rushed to the top of Cerulean’s Great Trees, split into every branch and each flower, no matter how large or how small. For the first time in generations of rings, the rain fell. Prismatic droplets saturated the air and rolled down between leaves and petals, and over barks and needles. It came down in torrents. It appeared as showers and mists. It washed away the stifling darkness, and brought new life to all the Great Forest.

  The rain came down.

  And spirits rose.

  35. Red Tide

  Over here!” Barra yelled to her mother across a pathwood teeming with light and fresh growth.

  Brace was still recovering, but she was hobbling around better each day. She’d already started weaving a new Thread around her lame tail. The new Thread was unique to the Forest; it began with Vallor’s Thread. Brace had gathered the remains with reverence and sworn that she would carry Vallor’s story as her own.

  She fingered the new Thread while she admired the light of the Loft and the many changes it brought. There was even talk of making Brace an Elder, but for today, she was an explorer. She was on a journey through the Middens with her daughter, the way Gammel would have wanted. Her sense of balance was improving, but she still needed practice and couldn’t imagine a better way
to get it.

  “There!” Barra said dramatically. She was pointing into an ancient, warped den that had newly opened up as the turgor of the upper boughs increased. “I’ve never seen that one before!” And then she bounded off.

  Brace sighed as she faltered after Barra. “She’s always been your daughter, Gammel.” Her head turned up as she invoked his name, and she saw a spectracinthe flower sparkling down at her. Its lavender petals drew together, creating a chamber that filled with water and divided its own light into discrete bands of color. Gammel had given her the same flower the day they met. She remembered how he’d explained what the flower would look like if the Great Trees were healthy. He was right. It was beautiful.

  “Mom!” Barra poked her head out from the old den. “Are you coming?” She gave her mom a playful, petulant look.

  “Yes, yes,” Brace said, shaking her head. She rolled her eyes and then tried to jump forward. Instead, she stumbled awkwardly. Catching herself, she swiped the spectracinthe and it burst open. Sugary water splashed all over her fur. She felt a little embarrassed as she noticed her daughter staring at her. “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’ll be right there.” Brace gathered herself up and moved with greater care toward Barra who was pretending not to worry.

  As Brace shambled toward Barra, she held close to support branches, and as the boughs shook, one of the disturbed spectracinthe petals broke free from the flower. It floated gracefully on the air like it was floating down a river. It came to rest briefly now and again on various flowers and branches. Somehow, it always found the open spaces, slid through them quietly and continued to fall. Down through boughs, to the very bottom of the Middens. And then, fearlessly, it fell into the emptiness between the canopy and the Root. And it floated for a very long time. Long after Brace and Barra returned to their Nest and prepared for the Buckle and slumber, the petal was still falling.